


Freedom in our own way

by GivenTheChonce_x (LoveAndChonce_95)



Category: Cricky - Fandom
Genre: Childbirth, Fear, Fluff, I can't write angst but I love y'all, Love, M/M, a bit of smut, a tiny bit of angst, incertitude, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 19:58:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8414722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveAndChonce_95/pseuds/GivenTheChonce_x
Summary: The journey to welcoming a new life.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lele28](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lele28/gifts).



> Here I go again.
> 
> I'm sorry it took so much time after this one was requested on tumblr, I hope it answers your prayers, dear anon.
> 
> This is my longest OS ever, the goal was 5K, I went a bit over. :)
> 
> Don't hesitate to comment, cuties.
> 
> And as always, everything for you, my beautiful Leticia.
> 
> All the love, P.

 

« Mr Ronaldo, we have one more thing to work out before we let you go on with this project. »

« Sure, shoot. »

« It’s come to our attention that you and Mr Regufe have more than a working relationship going on. Is that correct ? »

« If you mean that Ricky is not only my personal manager but also my boyfriend then you might be considered correct. »

« Let’s go straight – hum – to the point then. »

« Shall we. »

« We won’t tell you how to live your life but – »

« You better not actually. »

« - we.. Right. What I meant to ask is if you are willing to expose that involvement to the world during the process ? »

« First, it’s not a process. I am having a child, a baby. Second, it’s not some involvement, it’s a companionship. We are a couple, say it as it is. And no, I am not coming out. Neither is Ricky, although that is none of your concern. »

 

He’s met with a chorus of relieved sighs. Seeing the looks on those faces, he wishes to change that statement, to show them there’s nothing wrong with being who he is, or being with who he wants to. He’s not ready though, not yet. All he wants is to be a father, on his own terms so he’s got to play their game. 

« Excellent, excellent. »

« Are you sure you want to do this despite changing clubs and cities and everything, sir ? »

A small woman, the only one apparently caring about Cristiano himself and not his career, speaks up from the corner of the room. He smiles at her and nods.

« I’ll call you if I need any help, Mercedes. » 

She blushes and he smirks.

 

« We’ll e-mail you the terms of the contract when ready. You’re free to go. »

 

Cristiano gets in his car as fast as he can, blowing air out of his mouth.

He’s going to be a father, they’re finally starting a family.

 

When he’d asked Ricky about it, he had been clear. He was going to have a child with or without him. It wasn’t a light decision ; he’d always wanted to give a child all that he’d never gotten with his own father. He wanted it. He’d thought about it long and hard, his choice was made.

He was pissing himself in fear though. Ricky had looked him right in the eyes, silent. It was night and the moon was illuminating his face, giving his brown eyes a curious spark. They were sitting on the couch, facing each other with steaming cups of tea in their hands. Cristiano had thought they were done for, he’d thought he was going to refuse and leave because really, having a child while still in the closet, hiding, was probably the craziest shit he’d ever asked of him.

 

The silence had dragged on for another full minute, Ricky’s eyes never leaving his face. He’d wanted to gulp his tea down and burn his throat, never spill another word out.

« You know – he’d finally said – there’s not much I wouldn’t do for you. I work for you, I do your schedules, organise your shoots, get you the last nike stuff, go to your games.. and more. I’ll do more but this… » he’d left it unfinished, placing his mug on the table, reaching for Cristiano’s and doing the same. He’d taken both Cris’ hands in his smaller ones. The corners of his eyes had crinkled, his lips wavering. « … this I thought you’d never ask. » His mouth had morphed into a huge grin, crinkles deepening further and the spark in his eyes lighting up.

 

« You.. you’re saying yes ? »

« I’m saying _, até que em fim_ Cris. I’m saying I want to start a family with you, I’m saying I’d be honored to be the papa to your child… if you’ll have me. »

 

Cristiano had cried and laughed at the same time, kissing Ricky hard and hugging him like he never wanted to let go (he didn’t). « _Assustaste-me_. » Ricky had rolled his eyes at him. « You’re an idiot baby. »

« _Amo-te_. » He’d nuzzled in his neck, relieved.

 

 

Cristiano gets home rather late. It’s early July so the sun is still out. He sets the bicycle to a light evening work out, just enough to clean his muscles from a long day, and shoots Ricky a text. He puts his headphones on, shutting out the outside world and focusing on his legs.

 

He doesn’t hear the front door open or the bare feet softly padding to him. He sees the shadow in front of him though and feels the arms embracing him from behind. He doesn’t stop cycling, but melts into the strong chest, warming his back.

_« Boa noite, amor. »_

Ricky takes off Cristiano’s music , nose diving behind his ear. « You’re tickling me. » Cristiano laughs a little. Ricky doesn’t answer, peering off his shoulder to the timer. « Rough day, baby ? »

Ricky is a Nike marketing manager for Portugal, he had a full day of video calls and business meetings. He probably hasn’t even eaten. « Missed you » … which means he’s exhausted. Cristiano stays quiet, only tangling his fingers with Ricky’s on his stomach.

 

The bicycle bips and Cristiano slowly dismounts to turn in Ricky’s arms, bringing his own up to his shoulders. His cheek rests on the shorter man’s head, eyes closed. The tension seems to seep out of Ricky’s muscles, his body sinking forward into Cris.

 

« Tell me something good please. »

« Kiss me first, you rude person. »

 

Ricky snorts before obliging, tilting his head up and tasting Cristiano’s lips. They’re salty but soft under his own chapped ones.

Cristiano frames his jaw with his palm, guiding him and deepening the kiss into something more sensual, arousing.

 

«  Cris baby.. oh _Cristiano_. » Playing with Ricky’s nipples has always been a turn-on button. Cristiano knows it and his mouth loves the game. « Make me yours please. » 

Detaching himself from Ricky’s body, Cristiano raises an eyebrow at him.

« I was under the impression you already were, darling. »

It draws a smile on Ricky’s face, further relaxing him. He leads the way to the couch, walking backwards, lips glued to Cris’ neck. His knees meet the sofa abruptly, sending them tumbling down on top of one another, without any grace.

 _« Eu chamo a isto ganhar tempo. »_ They both giggle, Cristiano shaking his head fondly. It’s not even awkward anymore, they are so comfortable with each other.

 

It had been, at the start. Extremely awkward. Cristiano discovering his appreciation and lust for the male body, Ricky having to lower all the barriers he’d put up. They had had that period of time during which everything seemed forced, strained interactions, fearful words,  and the two had been on the verge of calling it off. It was Hugo surprisingly who had pushed them to talk to each other, without apprehension or shame. Life was too short to kill such a beautiful story before it had even begun.

 

« Bless your habit of working out half naked. » Ricky grunts in his ear, tugging his shorts down. His hand grips one cheek and pulls it apart, exposing his hole, the fresh air on his heated skin giving him goosebumps.

« I love your fingers. »

« Love yours more… please. »

 

Without changing his position on top of him, Cristiano folds himself in two, unbuttoning Ricky’s jeans and giving him no time to brace himself before taking his cock in his hand. Ricky’s already half hard, leaking a few seconds later under Cris’ caresses. « Come on, _campeão_. » Cristiano claims his mouth while he strokes him to full hardness, licking thoroughly and biting Ricky’s lower lip. He can feel Ricky’s warm pants on his face, his own breathing altered.

« Too many clothes baby. »

Ricky finds himself naked and sprawled on his stomach a minute later, Cristiano feasting between his cheeks.

Sucks around his rim have him moaning for more, a flat tongued lick across his hole drawing a small cry from his throat.

 

« Cris, baby. I.. I’m not clean. » Another lick, his eyes close.

« I’ve had worse love. »

« I’m the only one you’ve had, idiot. » He feels little puffs of air on his crack. Cristiano is laughing behind his back, replacing his tongue by his thumb. The simple pressure makes Ricky’s head drop.

« That’s what I’ve told you.. »

It’s Ricky’s time to chuckle, completely at ease. Cristiano comes up his back, fishing for a kiss, tongue first. « Filthy liar. »

 

The bottle clicks when Cristiano opens it, dipping three of his fingers in the cold gel. He’s two fingers in when Ricky cries out, hips rocking into the cushion. Cristiano starts scissoring, knowing the more air he lets in, the better for Ricky.

 

« What – oh my god Cris – how did you – oh – find it ? »

« I’m Cristiano Ronaldo, darling. »

A wicked smile appears on his winking face before he shuts Ricky up with another kiss, swallowing groans. « Another please, more, more please. »

« So polite sweetheart. You really love it huh ? I have a whole cabinet full of peppermint lube for my love. All for you. »

 

Cristiano finds his prostate as he pushes in a third finger, massaging deep into him. He crooks them, brushing Ricky’s walls to make sure he’s open enough. The sounds that escape Ricky’s mouth are sinful, the lube clearly getting to him.

They’d found it months earlier while on a trip to Indonesia. Ricky had gotten off so hard on it that Cris made his mission in life to use it as often as possible.

 

«  How does it feel baby ? _Fala_. »

«  Cold, so fucking cold. There – huh oh god – don’t move. Don’t you – fuck it’s hot, so hot. Get in me, Cristiano, now. »

That lube really gets Ricky going, the heat replacing the icy bite drives him mad and keeps him on edge. Cris takes his fingers out, smiling at the reproachful moan faintly falling from Ricky’s lips. «  It’s alright _, meu amor_ , you’re good. » He craddles the older man’s face between his hands, soothing him with soft pecks. Ricky’s eyes are closed, sweat pearls at the temples. He probably bit his lips because his mouth is red and wet, even more appealing to Cristiano.

 

« You.. you’re so hard Cris. _Despacha-te_. »

« I need you to look at me baby. Show me your pretty eyes, yeah ? » 

It’s difficult for Ricky to focus back when he gets that turned on. Cristiano keeps him grounded with his voice, softly playing with his nipples, bringing him down a little before slipping in without warning.

Ricky’s eyes are huge and black, darker in the middle, a sliver of brown ringing the outside. He’s gorgeous and Cristiano knows to remind him every once in a while. He might be older, he might be the one always taking care of Cris, he might refuse to complain about any of his issues, or his exhaustion, but Cristiano knows how much he deserves to be cared for. Ricky deserves all the attention, love, all the cuddles Cristiano can give him, all the tenderness he has in him.

 « I need you. » That. Ricky needs it.

 « I’m here, beautiful, you got me. »

 

They lock eyes as Cristiano picks the tempo up, slamming down into Ricky deep and fast. He feels fingers digging in his back muscles, strong strokes spanned across from shoulder to shoulder. He leans forward, forehead touching Ricky’s as his hips rock into him, pushing each breathy moan out of Ricky’s mouth.

 

 _« Desculpa amor, desculpa._ »

 

« What – are – you – talking about ? »

« I’m sorry for bringing you down, tying you down to me. »

« Ricky… » Cristiano slows a but but Ricky’s lgs come up behind him and press down on his ass hard. Harder is the message.

Cris braces himself on his forearms, kissing Ricky’s cheekbones softly.

 

« You deserve to be free. »

« I am.. – with you. »

 

The rhythm is starting to get sloppy, Cristiano aiming closer to Ricky’s prostate. There’s an impatient edge to Ricky’s screeching nails and low grunts, something desperate in his repeated whispers of sorries and « there, there ».

 

Cristiano gets so jittery he slips out, taking the time to breathe a little and kiss Ricky. They’re both sweaty, lips tasting like salt, tongues frantic in each other’s mouth and teeth clashing without any care. 

It takes another few pushes for Ricky to hit his high, arching up on the couch, panting into Cris’ skin. He starts shaking under Cristiano, still undulating to get him off. Cristiano keeps going, letting go of everything he’s got, short powerful movements driving him to his own orgasm.

 

« With you.. no one else. »

 

Cristiano comes inside Ricky, struggling to stay stable on his arms, chest heaving. _« Abraça-me. »_ His hands slide down Ricky’s sides, diving under his shoulder blades.  Dropping his head on his sternum, Cristiano tries to get his breathing in check again, the ringing in his ears making his mind spin.

 

« You treat me so well baby, so well. »

 

The younger man kisses the skin beneath his lips, curly wet hair tickling his nose. There’s a smile on his face, bright, bright and in peace with the love flowing between his body and Ricky’s. His eyes are closed, no intention of getting up in the next twenty minutes. He’s too warm, coccooned, reassured in his own heart. The physicality of the act doesn’t matter that much to him anymore. The connexion he feels to Ricky at that moment is all he would need to fly.

« You are the best that’s ever happened to me, Ric. »

When he gets no answer, Cristiano lifts his eyes to Ricky’s face, smirking at the redness of his cheeks. He softens with how Ricky is looking at the ceiling, seemingly controlling his breathing, light fingertips soothing Cristiano’s nail bitten back. Cristiano’s lips find their way to Ricky’s throat, slowly sucking on the thin skin, a faint imprint staying behind while he moves up. He feels the body beneath him still trembling, and tries his best to wrap around Ricky, squeezing himself against the sofa’s back to face him.

 

« Com’ere baby. You went hard didn’t you ? My sweet darling. Can you answer something love ? »

Cristiano doesn’t force Ricky to look at him, patiently waiting for any sign from him, only gathering him in his arms, warming his goosebumped limbs. His fingers start caressing Ricky’s hair, the hypnotic motion soothing both of them. Time is suspended, space is nothing but a support to their bodies, they’re quite literally in another dimension. Maybe each in their own…

 

He first notices the tears when Ricky unconsciously sniffs against his chest, nuzzling forward like a kitten. He knows better than to react. Cristiano knows something happened during the day for Ricky to be this emotional during sex. He goes hard, often, he does and it’s always intense and beautiful but sometimes it’s too much. Sometimes he gets overwhelmed and can’t get back on his feet for a little while. Cristiano never rushes him, he never urges him to come back up quicker.

Today though, he feels he has to press a little, he has to ask to fix it. To try, at least ?

 

He drops his forehead on Ricky’s, noses bumping and the wetness of the smaller man’s face is so fresh against Cristiano’s warmth it’s almost painful.

« Peanut. »

It’s soft and so sweet, the sweetest voice Cristiano has and only uses for him. It’s barely there, and yet it makes all the difference. Ricky’s eyes open, red and still a little lost, so close to Cristiano’s own that they’re unfocused.

« _Desabafa_. » 

His whisper gets Ricky to sigh deeply, coughing to get his voice back. A wet, raw and deep voice, lacking his usual sunny accent.

« _Desculpa, hum._ I was a bit dramatic there, wasn’t I. »

« Who’s saying that, baby ? »

« I am... okay, you’re supposed to be the drama queen. Shit. »

 

Cristiano laughs softly and Ricky fights a smile off. There’s a kiss dropped on Ricky’s forehead, salty lips but sugar smooth, trust being passed over.

« Been a long day.. I don’t really know. I think I just realised.. We, we were talking about signing some female athlete who, hum, who just came out, and they started giving reasons pros and cons and I guess I just lost it. Realised what I was putting you through. I’m so sorry, you have to believe me, Cris. I forget how hard it can be for you, today reminded me of that and sometimes I wish I’d never fallen for you.. but I still can’t stop loving you. »

 

« The fact that you’ve even tried.. you idiot. »

Cristiano cuddles close to Ricky, maintaining eye contact.

 

« Ricardo Regufe. I will never regret falling in love with you. Never. _Regista isto na tu cabeçinha dura_. You’re the best that’s happened to me after Sporting.. and even then you were there. You’re part of my life. And yes, we have our fair share of issues for being two men in love but guess what.. I don’t care. Okay ? I do not care as long as I have you. _Tu sabes isto, Ricky_. »

 

« I do, I know. I’m sorry. »

« Stop apologizing. »

 

Ricky smiles at him, dark eyes twinkling in the soft light of the living room. He exhales slowly, chasing away all remnants of his long, long day. The tears are still flowing though but Cristiano knows just what to say.

 

« Babe ? We need to find another hiding place for the lube. »

 

« Why is that ? This one is so practical. »

«  Well.. it might not be so secret or practical in a few years.. »

 

An eyebrow raised, a side smirk ; Ricky’s features opening up, glowing maybe.

« Yes ? »

 Cristiano only nods.

« They said yes ? »

 

Another nod, happily wet cheeks. A kiss, melting tongues against each other, a gasp and a laugh. Joy flying around.

« We’re going to be parents. »

 

« You’re going to be the best dad ever, Cris. »

« As long as I have you by my side. »

Ricky pecks Cristiano’s lips again, sweet, almost shy but very much there.

 

« I wouldn’t worry about that. »

  

* * *

 

 

« You will be fine, you will be fine, you will be fine. »

 

Cristiano repeats to himself as he relentlessly punches into the bag. It’s 3am, and he can’t sleep. 3 am and he woke up after one of the worst nightmares he’s ever had.

 

« You are not him, you are not him, you are not him. »

 

He didn’t want to wake Ricky so he swiftly moved to the inside gym room. Now he can’t seem to calm down, practically keeping his eyes closed through the work out to avoid tears falling off.

 

« You are better. You are better. You. Are. Better. »

 

He grits his teeth, lips tightly pinched. His arms fall back to their place. Motionless, he just stares right ahead, watching himself in the mirror.

 

He crumbles.

 

That’s where Ricky finds him fifteen minutes later, kneeling on the floor, a void expression on his face. He doesn’t say a word, crouches behind him and waits.

 

Cristiano cries. His head drops, his hands grip his chest, he feels like he could explode. «  Please, please. »

 

Ricky moves then, arms diving around Cristiano’s torso, front glued to his back. He fits his face in the space between Cris’ shoulder and neck, lips mouthing at the thin skin there.

« You’re okay, it’s okay, I’m here. »

The words don’t matter really, the voice somehow helps. «  _Calma amor, calma_ ». Ricky doesn’t even know what happened but he’s there, strong, stable, supporting wall for Cristiano’s shaken world.

 

« Com’ere baby, come on. »

Ricky folds Cristiano’s long body in on himself, pulling him on his lap sideways. Cheeks wet and sobs ripping through lungs make a really sad image. Ricky wishes he could do more.

He settles for a firm hug, his arms solid and warm against Cris’ chill skin.

 

This is not the first time Ricky’s found Cristiano in the gym, exhausted and overwhelmed with emotion. He’s probably been here for almost an hour. He’s probably been fighting this feeling since they learnt the procedure had succeeded.

Ricky hates it. He hates that Cristiano feels the need to hide his doubts from him ; he hates that he even has insecurities when he’s usually so confident in his skills. He hates that his father messed up so much that Cristiano ended up thinking he’d have no say on the dad he’d become. And he hates that there’s nothing he can actually do about it, nothing he can say to reassure him, nothing he, Ricky, the person who knows Cristiano the best after his mom, can change to erase the past.

And he knows Cristiano loved his father. If anything, that’s the reason he’s currently laying on Ricky, trying to calm his breathing. Cristiano loved his father more than anything, despite his mistakes, despite the talks they never had,d despite the scars he left behind.

 

« You are not him. »

« _Eu sei._ »

 

_No, no you don’t know baby._

He doesn’t see how different they are. Cristiano rests his forehead on Ricky’s temple, eyes closed, the air escaping his mouth tickling the older man’s neck. He leans into the touch, swaying a little back and forth to soothe him further.

 Cristiano doesn’t see how different he is from the man his father was. Ricky had little time to know the man but he had seen the character and learnt enough to be sure he was correct.

 

« I’m so stubborn. »

_« Acho que sei isso melhor do que tu, não é. »_

 

He can feel a little smile against his cheek. This. This is what he’s talking about. Stubborn but trying. Cristiano has let down so many fences and he doesn’t even realise it. Yes, he’s a brat, he’s obstinate and extremely tiresome most of the time. Of course, he’s relentless at work, he never stops, he doesn’t ask for help unless he’s half dead and he hates losing.. And yes, he gets that from his father.

Cristiano is also an excellent friend, he always listens, always answers when one of his relatives is in need. He’s not greedy, he’s not haughty, he’s proud but that only serves him well.

« You’re so much more than that, Cris. »

 

_E vais ser um pai exemplar._

_« Como é que podes dizer isso ? »_

Ricky can tell, he can. From the way Cristiano interacts with his nephews, the way he cares about his sisters, the way he supports his brother through thick and thin, the way he respects his mother above everything. Ricky can tell he’s going to be such a loving and attentive father.

He can see him playing with his baby, cooing over his or her crib. He can hear him laugh at every joke, every story, always the clown. He can also picture Cristiano hunched over a table, working on his child’s homework, helping with every sheet of simple and easy exercises that seem so complicated, creating fun and varied ways to study.

 

He can see all that and he’s going to show it to Cristiano. He knows all that, he’s not letting Cristiano beat himself up over something that hasn’t happened yet, something he’s got full control on.

« You’ve got all the tools, love. »

 

Cristiano has stopped crying. He drops a kiss on Ricky’s cheek, soft and lingering.

« You’ll be there ? »

« Every step of the way. »

 

Ricky turns his head, his hand on the back of Cristiano’s pulling him in. The kiss is slow but deliberate, meaningful, almost calculated to be perfect. Cristiano loves the way Ricky has to know exactly what he needs, how and when.

Perfection doesn’t exist but damn if this isn’t close.

 

« Better ? »

A nod.

 

« Your boxers are turning me on » Cristiano sniffs.

« Of course they are, you self-absorbed prick. »

Cris gasps but smiles anyway ; he knows Ricky is only joking. Not his fault his man fills the Nike underwear perfectly.. ( and nobody ever has to know that Cris bought them on purpose.)

 

* * *

 

She’s gorgeous.

She’s big and she’s ready, she’s so beautiful Ricky wants to cry. He also wants to scream because he’s so fucking scared.

Her skin seems to have coloured even more since the last appointment, her brown hair reflecting reds into the sun. Her summer dress is blue and twirling around her. A light, baby blue. Baby. It’s almost time.

 

Ricky tries to suppress his tremors, palms sticky against his jeans. It’s the last medical consult before the birth and they all know it. That baby could decide to grace them with his presence any time now.

His ears don’t even pick up what the midwife in front of them is saying, his eyes are lost somewhere above the man’s shoulder and he’s sweating. Okay, it’s late May, and it’s hot in Miami but still. He’s sweating through his white t-shirt and it’s showing.. that’s how bad it is.

 

He has to keep it together for another fifteen minutes at least.

 

« Ricky, Cristiano, I’m going to ask you to step outside so I can check on Maya and that little one once more. » 

« Yes of course. Don’t hurt her, Michael. »

« I wouldn’t. »

 

He hears Cristiano’s laugh but his brain doesn’t register the movement. It takes Cris putting a hand on his shoulder for him to get up and mechanically walk out.

 

He needs air. Short quick strides out of the practice, a deep inspiration and hands gripping the fence to avoid falling off the stairs there. Cristiano keeps rambling next to him, he understands baby and blankets and birth and « do you think he’ll be born before mom gets here ?»  but all his brain can focus on is white noise. Nothing really makes sense actually.

 

« A name. »

 

« Can you believe it’s almost here, Ric. I mean, he’s almost here, a tiny little baby is going to join us, we’re going to take him home. »

 

« A name, we don’t have a name. »

 

His voice draws Cris back from his own mind, concerned eyes landing on Ricky.

« I’m sorry, what ? What do you mean ? » 

« We don’t have a name for the baby. »

« I thought we’d decided to wait it out ? I mean, you convinced me to ? »

« We don’t have a name and the baby is coming. »

« I got that alright, Ricky. What is going on ? »

« A name, we need a name. We need to be prepared. What if he’s born tomorrow and we can’t even name him ?»

 

Ricky’s hand scratches his neck as he hunches over the fence, his eyes trying to close but failing because he’s too hyped up. Too excited, too terrified.

 

« Ricky, what’s going on ? »

Cristiano carefully approaches him and puts a hand on his shoulder, heavy weight an anchor to Ricky. His fingers stray over his skin, caressing. Strange but calming. Cristiano knows how to, when to.

 

« Baby we’re fine. » 

« Baby.. »

 « _Amor.. fala lá, vá_. »  

 

« I’m exhausted Cris. »

 « Do.. do you regret ? »

 

Ricky turns around so fast he feels the muscles in his neck crack. He pulls Cristiano by the lapel of the vest he’s wearing, pulling him down to level their eyes.

 _« Nunca digas isso._ Never ever, you hear me ?  _»_

 

He sees Cristiano’s prominent Adam’s apple bob, sign he knows he’s said something wrong. 

« Then tell me. »

A whisper.

 

« I’m panicking. I’ve never wanted anything more. I’ve organized everything, the flights, the house is ready, the room, the papers. Everything but the mere thought of this actually happening is terrorizing me, Cris. »

« This. Having a child ? »

« Having a baby, a tiny human being we’re responsible for. »

« You don’t feel capable of that ? »

 

They’ve moved. Ricky’s back is against the fence now, the cold seeping through the cotton of his t-shirt, his hands gripping Cristiano’s waist. Maybe he’ll bruise tomorrow.

«  I think I haven’t actually grasped the whole idea of this. »

 

Ricky sighs, deep, long. Cristiano kisses his forehead, sweet.

« Is that why you need a name ? Would it help you ? »

« It’s stupid but it’s the only thing I could think of while in there. »

« Oh, Ric. It’s not stupid, love. If that’s what you need, we can try to find a name right now. »

« Now ? »

« Yes, of course, peanut. »

« You’re gonna have to stop calling me that.. so you can call him. Oh lord, we’re really having a baby, aren’t we ? »

« Yes, we are, sweetheart. »

 

They laugh together, Ricky resting his cheek on the younger man’s sternum.

It’s been a long 10 months of waiting, and in some ways it was so rapid, so quick that Ricky didn’t have the time to register everything. The second they were given the green light, they’d found the perfect woman, gorgeous Brazilian Maya ready to offer them the most precious gift, they’d organized all the flights and doctors and midwives’ appointments. They’d chosen a man, sweet delicate Michael, to take care of Maya while they were away in Europe. They’d kept everything under wraps. Cristiano had grown more and more excited, Ricky more and more anxious.

 

« I want him to be only ours. »

 

There. The hidden fear. The fact that this baby would be Cristiano Ronaldo’s son and some unknown woman’s. Ricky felt like an idiot the first time he had the thought, the need to make this baby boy his, the deep necessity to affirm his engagement and will to be the best father he could. Cristiano might stop loving him someday, he might stop being his, stop calling him sweet pet names but this child opens a door to an undying flame that Ricky could never refuse.

Lips part his own, a pleasant warmth spreading through his chest.

 

« Then choose, this one is yours. »

The implication behind that statement, simple words, make Ricky’s head spin.

« Cristiano. »

« Mmmh.. »

« No- »

 

« Ricky, Cristiano, Michael is asking for you two. Think there’s a little one wanting to communicate with his daddies. »

The interruption makes them jump apart, silly smiles plastered on their faces. The older man (jeez, he’s 31, not 60, come on) intertwines his fingers with the younger, dragging him excitedly to the door.

« Let’s go talk a bit with our son, goof ball. »

 

Michael is waiting for them, two electrodes on Maya’s belly, fluttering beats filling the air. There are tears on Maya’s face, a pure adoring expression transforming her features.

 

_« Estou tão contente por vocês, rapazes. »_

 

Cristiano places his hands on the swollen stomach, tears brimming his eyes. Ricky mouths countless « thank you »  to her, kissing her cheek and winking at Michael. He’s happy. They’re happy. They’ll be fine, he promises himself.

 He catches his companion’s gaze, filled with sheer joy, unwavering.

 

« Cristiano junior. »

« Ours. »

 

* * *

 

They only waited three days.

 

« So Maya, you’re at 10, how about we brace ourselves to start pushing yeah ? »

 

They chose not to hospitalise Maya, chose to have the most natural birth possible.. The room is clean white but personal, warm, welcoming. Dolores is waiting outside with Katia; Cristiano is tense as if about to go on the pitch, eternal focused perfectionist wanting to do everything; Ricky is about to lose it. Well, he’s counterbalancing Cristiano’s composed game.

 

« Ricky, come here. You’re going to help Maya. Remember how to ? »

« I wouldn’t mind a recap, Mike. »

 

Maya laughs but quickly stops, whining. Michael’s hand fits behind her bump, feeling around. 

« Okay, you’re having a contraction. It’s showtime, Maya. First round. »

 

He takes his place between her legs; she’s on her side, Cristiano solid against her back, attentive to all and any of her movements. He’s whispering to her, encouragements, endearments, words of gratitude. Ricky hesitates, wide-legged two feet from the bed, arms reaching for Maya and Michael both.

 She pushes once, hard, long, red-faced. Ricky takes her hand; Michael tells her to push further down. She pushes twice, a long expiration; Cristiano accompanies her through it, helping her breath. She doesn’t scream. Michael asks for a third push during this contraction ; she does; the head is visible.

 She’s in pain, so much pain, but she wants to control it, channel it into more energy. She’s doing good, she’s beautiful, Cristiano tells her. Ricky holds her hand tighter during the next three efforts. Michael is concentrated but smiling, everything is going well.

 It’s fast but at the same time, Ricky sees the scene through a camera lens, every detail engraved in his mind. Michael is talking, giving Maya indications – « the head is almost out, a little more, just a little more »  -; Maya who’s crushing Ricky’s hand.

 

It’s all a blur from the moment Michael tells her to stop pushing, Cristiano starts crying, fat happy tears sliding down his cheeks. Ricky watches as Maya breathes deeply, eyes closed.

« Ricardo, do you want to welcome your son into this world ? »

 

Apparently, he’s taking a little too long to react because Cristiano is shaking his head and softly mocking him.

« _Acorda sonecas._ Our son is waiting for you. »

 

Ricky is shirtless, they had decided he would be the one cuddling their child during his first seconds of life.

Hands extended, a light weight in his arms, a blanket under his fingers.  

 

_« Olá, minha estrelinha. »_

 

He’s crying, he knows he is. The little bundle on his chest screams, loud, piercing and Ricky is already proud of him.

 

_« Bem-vindo, minha maravilha pequenina. »_

Cristiano is right behind him, circling his waist, covering his trembling arms around the baby. They’re three now; three and a new life ahead.

 

Ricky lifts his head to meet Cristiano glowing face, sparks flying in the soft brown oh his eyes and he wishes for Junior to take after him. He wishes for Junior to be as radiant, caring and full of life as Cristiano is. He knows he will be. 

He can’t help but drop a kiss on the corner of his boyfriend’s lips, both smiling so wide, both crying so much it’s impossible to do more. Junior gesticulates, little fists hardly bumping into his papa’s pectorals.

 

« Papa and Daddy love you, Cristiano, so much. »

 

Beautiful eyes open to a new light. Ricky sinks into Cris’ warm embrace, head resting on his shoulder, forehead against his jaw.  

« I love you, _campeão_. »

 

It’s two in the afternoon on a sunny 17th of June, Cristiano Ronaldo and Ricardo Regufe have just become parents, together.

 

It’s just a whisper, a reminder of not so long ago, a promise of forever.

 

« I’m free... with you. »

 

 

 


End file.
